What Dwells Between Heaven and Earth
by Rosabell
Summary: Slightly AU. Merlin is a peasant boy-sorcerer, with wisdom to give and secrets to hide. His destiny is to see Arthur to greatness. Arthur is an intelligent royal heir, determined to make Camelot great. When the two become friends, who is protecting whom?
1. The Youth in Camelot

What Dwells Between Heaven and Earth

The Youth in Camelot

His mother had been worried about how he would fare on his journey to Camelot. Once within the city walls, she was certain he would be safe; Camelot was known for its prosperity and contentment, and crime was low. Outside its formidable fortress, however, the wilderness is untamed, and all sorts of beings, both human and beast, lurk waiting for hapless wanderers to prey upon. Merlin was by no means the toughest of his age, and with his childish face and lanky form, he would present a much more attractive target to bandits and thieves.

Merlin had simply laughed. He had tales of young boys off to save princesses stuck in his head from all the books he read. In between his chores and helping both his mother and his village, Merlin would often curl up with such a fairy tale. They interested him much more than the Bible, which recounts each story with a strong emphasis on some lesson or other that Merlin had little desire to learn. Besides, Christians hated sorcerers. They thought sorcerers were the work of the Devil. Even if the Bible was the Word of God, and there were indeed good lessons to be learned, Merlin would have had enough of that going to church every Sunday. Why read the Bible if the pastor was going to read it later anyway? The folktales were much more interesting. There were dragons and goblins and princesses that practiced magic and witches that could be defeated by courage and valor. Such tales were colorful and distinctive, closer to his adventurous heart. How many such tales told of youths like himself, born of humble families, going off to the wide, unknown world? How different were they from Merlin?

And of course, there was the fact that Merlin possessed magic. Folktale heroes have survived with far worse odds.

He had cheerfully packed his things, whistling old village tunes, while his mother kept thinking of one thing and then another for him to bring. Extra clothes, some trinkets from his childhood that he barely touched, bowls, spoons, bread and meat for his journey, apples to keep the healers away, a cross to ward off evil, garlic to do the same, until Merlin was certain that the weight of his belongings would kill him long before any bandit would.

His mother was so silly! He was going to Camelot. The richest, most beautiful place in the world, an economic center of the world. It had everything from music and art to crafts and tools. Mothers will be mothers, though, and Merlin loved his. The only concern the boy had was how his mother would live while he was with Gaius. A woman living by herself was by no means simple. He would not be able to lift heavy things for her while in Camelot, nor do the chores that required a man's strength. His friends would have to help take care of her while he was away.

So the cheerful youth went on his way, toward the gleaming walls of Camelot. He traveled for some days in peace, and the woods were quiet and serene. At nights he made a campfire with his mind and smelled the earth and wood. He had no idea what he would be facing, but the unknown excited him. Whoever this Gaius was, he lived in the castle in Camelot, near the King and Crown Prince. There was sure to be much adventure there! He could hardly wait.

Then one afternoon, he approached the gates. In the front stood several guards. They wore the armor of the kingdom and looked upon him with a fierce gaze.

" Passport?" Said one of the guards, as Merlin approached.

The youth blinked in surprise, apprehension lacing his tones as he replied, " Uh...I don't know what that is."

The guard groaned. " What's your name, lad?"

" Merlin Emrys."

" What is your business in Camelot?"

Uncertain, the boy opted for the truth. " I'm here to visit a family friend, Gaius."

" Pfft." The guard scoffed. " Here to visit a friend? We can't just let anyone in, brat. Get out of here."

Merlin blinked, realizing that he had just encountered an obstacle he had no idea how to overcome. " But I have to enter. He's expecting me. Please, I've been traveling for days..."

" Oy." Said another guard, one who looked even sterner than the first, but his words ended up working in Merlin's favor. " Look at him, Brun. He's no spy, nor is he a troublemaker. That's one good honest face on him, and the lad's obviously telling the truth. Those rural folk don't know the system. Give him some slack and let him pass."

" Hmph!" Said the first guard. " Oh very well. But mind what you do. Any funny business from you, and we throw you out on your rear. Understood?"

Sufficiently frightened, Merlin nodded. " Yes, sir."

" Get moving." The guard inclined his head. " Mind you, we were being nice. Next time you come visit your friend, bring a bloody passport."

Merlin was intimidated, but not enough to restrain himself from asking, " If you please, sir, what is a passport?"

" Ask the friend Gaius you're visiting. Hard to explain here." Said the guard. " Everyone in Camelot knows what it is. At least those worth their weight. Would even be able to show it to you in person. We don't have any on us."

" Thank you." Bewildered, Merlin went in.

Instantly, the boy was struck by the atmosphere of the city. There were colors and noise everywhere, people in large crowds bustling about. Everywhere he looked, there was activity. Jugglers on the street, street musicians, painters offering to paint portraits, bakeries selling goods and providing samples. Merlin glanced around, amazed. This was nothing like his village, where days were mostly quiet and broken only by the sound of wind rustling the grass or birds singing. Here there was barely any patch of grass, street and pavement covered the ground, and tall, beautiful buildings loomed overhead in their graceful architecture, each of them as beautiful as the little church in his village. Several cityfolk passed him by without paying attention to him. He looked at their clothes, noting their improved quality. There he was, a fool from a rural village, in the middle of the richest city in the world, the culture pouring from every brick in the walls and every elegant window. He glanced at his own tunics, reflected on his education, and felt a little abashed.

He started walking, paying attention to everything he saw. The shops, the clothing stores, the vendors on the streets. In the distance he could see the roof of the castle, tall and majestic, and corrected his path so he was headed there. In the meantime, he continued looking about.

Upon the walls, there was a poster. Curious about what it said, Merlin moved closer to read.

NOTICE

ALL SORCERERS AND BEINGS OF MAGIC MUST BE REPORTED TO THE KING.

PRACTICE OF SORCERY IS ILLEGAL IN CAMELOT AND WILL BE PUNISHED WITH DEATH.

AIDERS OF SORCERERS AND CREATURES OF MAGIC WILL BE NAMED THEIR ACCOMPLICES AND PUNISHED WITH DEATH.

ORDER FROM THE KING OF CAMELOT.

He blinked once, read it again, and blinked once more. In a swift rush, his earlier cheer and wonder faded into dread. For the first time, Merlin felt afraid.

ooooo

" Yes!" Arthur did his best to keep his excitement suppressed, but it was hard to do so when there was just...so much of it. He grinned toothily at his comrades. " Let's go have some fun!"

It was rare for the prince to have so many hours to himself in one day. Usually his days were taken up by training, studying, and other princely duties. King Uther kept a tight leash over his son, ensuring that the young man would have everything he needed to one day inherit the throne. For the most part, Arthur could not complain. He knew his father's intentions and appreciated them. There were worse fathers than Uther, and worse kings still. From time to time, however, he still liked to break rules. Harmless ones though. Like staying in the castle grounds instead of running around the streets pretending to be an anonymous noble. One time he did actually dress up as a servant, but he did not enjoy himself as much. He was too use to the deference of a prince, and being as ignored as he had been was irritating. Still, he knew better than to gallivant about as a prince. His father would never let him hear the end of it, not to mention there were times when Arthur would like to forget about that for a while.

So now he was sneaking out with his friends to see some sights in the city.

" Where to?" Asked one of his companions. " Where to first?"

" Let's just wander a bit." Said Arthur. " It's been a while since we came out. Maybe there are some new stores that opened."

The civilians of Camelot knew to give the well-clad youths a wide berth. They presented a formidable lot. Arthur was a skilled fighter, tall and strong with a good build, and any one of his friends could pummel a thief to the ground. Pickpockets had long since learned to give them distance, and beggars know to avoid tainting the air they breathed. Almost as soon as they stepped into the market district, however, a homeless, ragged man hobbled in front of them, hair and beard in disarray, a horrid stench emanating from his clothes, and hands outstretched in a universal plea.

" Please, noble sirs," The man's voice cracked and reeked of alcohol, " I've been starving for days. Just a little change to spare? Please sirs?"

Disgusted, Arthur kicked him in the chin. " Out of my way, you disgusting, inebriate filth!" He cried. " I won't spare a spit for the likes of you!"

The man toppled over, crying out in shock. Arthur grimaced and turned away. When he was young he had innocently thought that beggars were unfortunate people who had fallen on hard times. It was not until later when he learned that most beggars had been gamblers. Camelot was a thriving, wealthy city. Honest men find honest work. Those who could not work because of illness were taken care of by the King's programs. There should be no beggars on the streets, no orphans or ragamuffins or pickpockets. The only reason they would be out and about was because they were criminals.

Arthur hated criminals. They tarnish Camelot's good name. There was simply no good reason, in his mind, that anyone should turn to crime. If they wanted help, Camelot provided. These fiends simply wanted their lifestyle, one that harms others and brings suffering. Too bad he could not simply arrest beggars. Uther had laws against unwarranted arrests. Still fuming, he nearly walked into the youth who seemed to materialize in front of him, but the young man was not looking at him.

" Are you hurt?" He asked the beggar. Lanky form, tall but thin, a childish face with fair skin and short, dark hair. On his back was a bag, lumpy and stuffed. He wore the clothing of a peasant farmer. He reached out toward the lowly man and helped him to his feet. Arthur watched in stunned surprise, as the boy's thin hand reached into the folds of his tunics and pulled out several coins.

" Here." Said the youth. " Buy yourself something to eat."

" Thank you," The beggar bowed his head fervently, " Thank you, kind lad. God bless you."

Arthur's senses were returning. He folded his arms as the beggar hobbled away. " He's only going to gamble it away. Or spend it on alcohol. You did notice his breath, did you not?"

In retrospect, he probably should never have stooped so low as to talk to a peasant commoner. The boy turned to face him, eyes clear and defiant, a sharp blue color like the cerulean skies. There was an eerie ethereal quality about the youth that made Arthur wonder if he was some kind of angel descended to help the beggar.

" He may. He may not." The boy replied. His less than eloquent accent clashed with his sophisticated diction. " How he spends my coins is none of my concern once I gave it to him. Either way, I lose a few coins, and I commit an act of kindness. Why should I be defensively selfish just because he might be dishonest? I make no assumptions. But thank you sir, for your counsel."

He bowed, clearly aware of Arthur's possible status, and disappeared into the crowd before Arthur could even think to reply.

For a moment, the prince stood with his companions, at a loss. Then, abruptly, Arthur was struck with a realization. Whoever that peasant boy was, he was no ordinary youth. Arthur had just met someone who might be truly remarkable.

Or maybe the prince was just very impressed.

Either way, Arthur was not letting this young man go without at least finding out his name and identity.

" That boy..." He began. " Have any of you ever seen him before?"

" No sir." Of course not. His companions might wade through the streets more than Arthur, but they would hardly pay attention to other civilians enough to remember their faces.

Arthur shifted. Brief as his day in the city had been, it was the most interesting he could ever remember. The Crown Prince was not about to let it go to waste.

" Come. We're heading back. I want to find that boy."


	2. Castle Guest

A/N: This chapter contains some depiction that might resemble light racism. I only included it because I felt medieval times WERE racist and it was odd casting Guinevere with Angel Coulby (though I approve! She's so pretty!) This is by no means my point of view; I just wanted the characters to feel a little more realistic.

What Dwells Between Heaven and Earth

Castle Guest

Entering the castle was even more difficult than entering Camelot itself. The guards here refused to give Merlin leeway, even when he tried to use the argument that allowed him passage earlier in the day. He was tense and on edge. Camelot was different. Sorcerers were feared everywhere, but never so completely that they should be completely outlawed. His village had been wary but friendly despite the caution, and at the very least he had not feared for his life, so long as he kept his magical use at a minimum.

If this Gaius lived in the very heart of Camelot, could he really help Merlin? His mother had sent Merlin on his way because she was afraid his magic was becoming too powerful, and needed to be trained. She claimed that Gaius could teach him, and so here Merlin came. What if he was walking into a trap?

" Look, if you could just call him up here—"

" Look here, lad. We're guards. We're not messengers. If you were due to arrive in Camelot, the healer ought to have given us word."

Frustrated beyond tolerance, Merlin nearly let loose his magic right there.

" You're not serious!" Exclaimed a feminine voice, and a dark Moorish girl materialized, carrying folded linen. Merlin stared openly at her. He had never seen a Moor. They lived down south, he thought, in a city of water, or even further in another realm. She was dressed in a servant's uniform, her hair tied into a bun. He had no idea moors had hair like that. They were puffy and a mass of curls. Her features might have been beautiful, but at the moment the boy could only focus on her dark skin and strange hair.

" We all know Gaius is too scatterbrained to give anyone word of his visiting." She went on. " I'm on my way to Lady Morgana, but I can ask him to come escort you. What is your name?"

" Merlin Emrys." How he managed to speak at all was probably the power of God.

" Merlin Emrys," The servant nodded, " If you speak the truth, he shall be with you directly." She disappeared before Merlin could thank her.

" Bah!" The guard glared at him. " Behave yourself, boy! The castle gates are no playground. Any tomfoolery and we will throw you in the dungeons!"

Merlin thought wistfully that for all the prestige of Camelot, its cityfolk really were not the most amiable. Perhaps they all noticed he was a peasant farmer from the rural villages. He felt small and lost.

Minutes ticked past. The guards stared at him. Merlin fidgeted awkwardly, adjusting the pack on his back. He was starving, but he dared not move from the spot in case Gaius came along.

After what felt like an eternity, an old, white-haired man clothed in healer's robes emerged from the hall.

" Merlin Emrys?" The man called, looking very much like he was disoriented.

" Ah, yes, that is I." Merlin replied.

The man, who he assumed was Gaius, waved at him with one gnarled hand. " Come along, boy."

Glancing at the guards to confirm that he was allowed, Merlin stepped into the castle.

He had imagined that castles were grand structures, and indeed they were on the outside. Inside, however, it was rather dark and a little damp. There was a clammy feel to the place, despite the relative warmth of the spring season, and few windows to illuminate despite the day. What windows there were sat small and narrow on the walls, allowing light to just peek through. Most of the light came from torches on the walls, though they did little to alleviate the chill. However, all of the walls were nearly covered with tapestries. Glorious colors depicted angels and saints, the birth of Christ and his crucifixion, knights slaying dragons and the coronation of kings. Merlin looked upon them in open wonder. Gaius walked on with his head bowed, muttering to himself.

They came upon a long winding staircase, where Gaius proceeded to climb with a nimbleness surprising in his apparent old age. Merlin, not use to climbing so many stairs, found himself tiring very early on.

" Come along, boy!" The old man snapped. " What good are your young bones for?"

" Yes sir," Merlin gasped, feeling like his legs will soon give out on him. Thankfully, they soon broke off into the hall before he could embarrass himself even more. The level floor was a relief.

" Come along, come along, no time to dawdle. There is much work to be done!"

Some servants passed them. Merlin looked for the Moor. She was not among them. In fact, none of these women were Moors.

Gaius led him into a large room that was cluttered with books. The room smelled like herbs, and indeed, seeds and roots and leaves were stacked in wooden boxes and labeled in the most awful calligraphy Merlin had ever seen. The rugs were filthy and stained. On one table, there was a pile of oranges next to a pile of rine.

" Your room will be over there," Gaius pointed at a door, and Merlin wondered how the old man managed to make his way past the clutter of things on his floor, " You are Hunith's boy, yes? Go on. Don't loiter in the middle of the room. I have things to do, you know."

Merlin wondered where his mother met such a strange fellow. " Yes, sir." He then gingerly picked his way through the room.

" Once you're done unpacking, you might as well be useful. Here's a list of things to fetch for me. You can read, right?"

" Uh…yes, yes I can."

Gaius slapped down a white sheet on top of a flat box filled with herbs. " Get to it when you're done. Hurry up now! Don't just stand there!"

_Right._ Merlin thought, once more stepping around. _This is going to be interesting._ Everyone in Camelot seemed so cold. How did the city earn its reputation?

He was already starting to miss home._  
_

ooooo

Arthur made his way back to Camelot just in time to learn that his father was holding court. His first reaction was alarm; Uther usually requested Arthur's presence in the courtroom, and since Arthur had been sneaking out into the city, no doubt Uther would have learned and been most displeased. However, a quick word with his cousin Morgana assured him this was not the case.

" Why would he suddenly hold court like this?" Arthur asked. " And why did he not ask for me?"

Morgana would not know. " I heard something about sorcery. I'm guessing he's holding trial for someone accused of practicing magic. I know nothing about why he never requested for you."

_Christ's fuzzy beard!_ Arthur thought, an apostrophe he made since he was five years old but never dared say out loud. " He knew all along that I was out." He realized. " Why do I even bother trying?" It figured that King Uther would know _everything _that happened in his castle.

Suddenly, he remembered the youth in the city. _Could it be him?_ He felt a mild curiosity. The boy looked too hapless to be a sorcerer, but it would be interesting if he were. Pity he would die though, but nonetheless, interesting.

" Morgana, can you ask your handmaiden to see who the sorcerer is?"

His cousin blinked at him. " Why?"

" Just curiosity." Arthur turned his nose up.

Morgana gave him a look that suggested she was completely confused. " Ah. _Men._" She drawled. " Very well, I can't see the harm in satisfying your childish inquisitiveness. Gwen!"

The handmaiden appeared. " My Lady."

Gwen's father was a Moorish blacksmith. He traveled from down south to Camelot and presented his services to the King. Uther liked him, and employed him to make swords for the knights of Camelot. His daughter was allowed to serve Lady Morgana in relative comfort and grace. Arthur always found her a bit disturbing to look at. Camelot was a multicultural center, with Britons and Franks and Germanic folk roaming around in its markets, but even so, Moors were rare and looked so utterly _different. _Their dark skin and puffy hair and thick lips made them seem barbaric in comparison to the much more refined looking (or so he thought) white folk. Granted, Gwen's mother was white, but that still did not detract from how odd the handmaiden looked to him. He always wondered why Uther would favor Gwen so much that he would allow her to serve his ward. There were plenty of normal-looking white girls to be found, who were much less offensive to his eye.

Nonetheless, Morgana seemed to like her handmaiden, and had never requested a replacement. From what he would occasionally hear from the servants, Gwen was the best seamstress in Camelot, and a very sweet and likeable girl. It was more than he was at all interested in knowing, but it was enough to assure him that despite her odd appearance, the Moor was well-qualified to serve his cousin.

Morgana gave her handmaiden instructions to observe the courtroom. Gwen curtsied and left the royal cousins.

" Really, now," Morgana began, " After so many years, you'd think you'd be use to Gwen."

" I do not see her nearly as often as you do." Arthur pointed out. " Why would God create folks with skin so dark? Are they even human?"

" You do realize that Christ himself would be considered a Moor?" Morgana reminded him.

" Really?" Arthur never paid attention to the Bible. He was always studying or training, and never paid attention to sermons.

" Perhaps you should _read _more and punch your fellows less." Morgana quipped flatly.

" Not a chance. I'll leave the book-reading to you, dear cousin." _After all, you do little else in your endless spare time._

Morgana threw him a dirty look, as if reading his thoughts. When they had been young, the strong-willed Morgana had convinced her way into training with Arthur in combat. Arthur's father put an end to it when Morgana turned fourteen and began to develop a womanly form. She was then forced to abide by more feminine manners, and Morgana harbored a slight resentment toward the King for taking away this bit of freedom. She was comforted with the abundance of books at her disposal, but only slightly, for Camelot looked upon reading with less favor than dragon slaying. No one can slay a dragon by reading a book, after all.

" How can Christ be a Moor? Look at all the tapestries! He's white in all of them!"

" He was a Roman Jew."

" But look at all the tapestries!"

" The tapestries were _wrong._" Morgana patted him on the shoulder. " I suppose it's just as well that you left the book-reading to me. _Someone _has to have the wit."

" Oh really! You believe you have wit? I hardly noticed!"

" Focusing as much on fighting as you do, it's a wonder you can even speak properly, let alone notice true wit when it's right in front of you."

Arthur opened his mouth to retort out of habit, but Morgana was tiring of the banter. " Now, you haven't told me what drove you back so soon. I thought you were setting aside this day for terrorizing the civilians of Camelot."

" The way you depict me! I'm surprised if people haven't started thinking that I have three heads with an evil third eye on each and breathe fire out of my mouth!"

" Nay, His Majesty the King would never allow such a freak to roam this fair kingdom. Well? What made you come back?"

" Perhaps I merely missed my dear cousin, and I regretted not being able to spend more time with her."

" That is touching of you. And entirely false. I know you. You are hardly mature enough to be so thoughtful."

" Fine. Perhaps I figured that I would much rather terrorize my cousin than strangers I don't know."

" Equally unlikely, unless you are more daft than I thought. Even if you did sprout two extra heads and spat fire, I would hardly be terrorized by you. Come, you are dodging, and I am _dying _of curiosity."

" You should not have admitted that. Now I am inclined to keep you in the dark, just to see what happens."

Arthur grinned as Morgana continued pestering him, but kept silence on his part until her handmaiden returned.

" My Lady, Your Highness," She curtsied.

" What have you learned?" Arthur asked.

" The sorcerer on trial is a young man. In his early twenties, I think. Fair brown hair, ivory skin, whose name was Rion. He lived in Camelot since his parents moved here when he was three and normally worked as a tailor. I am…not sure if he really is a sorcerer."

" My father would know." Arthur nodded. " Good work."

So this Rion was definitely _not _the youth Arthur ran into earlier in the markets. That boy had been fair-skinned, and his hair had been indisputably black. His accent was not that of Camelot, but from the outlying villages. _Well._ Arthur could not deny feeling rather pleased about this.

" You still did not answer my question." Morgana pressed.

Arthur rose languidly. " It's a wild world out there, my fair cousin. I fear the details shall only bore you. Good day."

" Coward!" Morgana called after him, as he retreated with a grin. " I shall dig it out of you yet!"

ooooo

" Sorry, sir, sorry. I…was just looking for some flasks? Do you happen to know where they are?"

At least the servants in the castle were friendly, or else Merlin's quest to find everything on the list Gaius gave him would have turned into a miserable disaster. The castle was large enough as it was, winding and maze-like. A tour would probably be wasted on him, but he could not help but wish that someone had bothered to give him one nonetheless. At least he might have been able to recognize some familiar corridors. As it was, he was like a blind rat in a tunnel, scuttling around and latching onto any passerby he could spot, hoping for some kindly directions.

Anxious and nervous, he barely managed to avoid tripping over his feet in his distraction as he tried to make sense of his whereabouts. He had no idea, before coming here, that it was possible to build such great structures. The castle seemed to be the work of God. Maybe it _was _the work of God. Too bad he felt rather far from Heaven right now. Nervous and jumpy, he dearly wished that he had been a little smarter somehow. Maybe if he had more brains, he would not feel so utterly clueless.

Struggling with his load, Merlin decided it was high time to make his way back to Gaius. He could not carry much more anyway, and going back to the eccentric old man would at least inform him that Merlin had not simply been gallivanting around the castle all this time. Seeing a flash of golden hair, he called out, " Excuse me! Pardon me—"

The head turned, and Merlin's eyes widened as he openly gaped. _Wasn't he out in the city not too long ago?_ Did he return? It was the same man that had kicked the beggar earlier. The boy stuttered.

" Pardon me, sir. I didn't mean to disturb you."

An inscrutable look passed over the noble's features. He was a young man, though older than Merlin, with a strong jaw and broad shoulders that made him look tough and impenetrable. To be honest, Merlin had been rather panicky about confronting a noble, and had disappeared as quickly as he could to avoid escalating the situation. _Well, aren't you proud of yourself. _He had run into the man _here_, where he was supposed to _live_.

The noble huffed, a gesture a mix of disdain and amusement. " Where are _you _off to?"

" Ah…" Merlin blinked. Of all the things he thought this man would say, for some reason this question was not one of them. " Ah…I'm trying to bring this stuff back to Gaius…I don't know how to get there though—I'm a little lost."

" Not a very bright chap, are you?" The noble snorted. " Well, I'm on my way to see him as well. _Try _to keep up."

For some reason, Merlin sensed he was lying, at least about going to see Gaius. He was not about to pass up the chance to make it back to Gaius without unnecessary detours. Shifting his load, he hurried after the noble's brisk form. They went up some stairs and down some stairs and turned left and right until Merlin thought this noble was simply leading him for fun—but how was he to complain? This was a _noble._

The other man did not speak to him as they went, and Merlin kept silent as well. They eventually arrived in a somewhat familiar hall, when suddenly the noble twisted his body and opened the door.

" Gaius!" He called out as he stepped in. " I brought your wayward lackey."

Merlin was too relieved to arrive at his destination to take any sort of defense. " Sir," He called out, " I brought only some of the things on the list, but I'll head out to get the rest."

" Do you need me to lead you to them again?" The noble asked scornfully.

" Your Highness!" Gaius exclaimed from carrying yet another load of books to the floor, " Ah, pardon me, Your Highness."

_Your Highness?_ Merlin stared at the noble. Or Prince. This was Prince Arthur. He cursed in his head.

The prince slid onto a chair and propped his feet on the books that littered the table in front of him.

" Well?" He demanded as Gaius stood meekly. " Aren't you going to introduce me to him?" He waved at Merlin. " What peasant did you pull into the castle today, healer?"


	3. Proper Introductions

What Dwells Between Heaven and Earth

Proper Introductions

" Your Highness," Gaius began, " This is my nephew, Merlin Emrys."

_Nephew?_ Merlin blinked, shocked. His mother never said Gaius was her brother. He had always assumed that Gaius was her friend.

The prince looked at Merlin, legs still propped up. " Merlin Emrys eh? A nephew? Interesting. How long will he be staying in Camelot?"

He never took his gaze off Merlin, even as he spoke to Gaius. It made Merlin a little incensed, but he held his tongue.

" That has not been decided yet, Your Highness."

" Ah." A moment's pause. " What are you standing there for?"

Startled, Merlin glanced at Gaius. Once more, he felt lost. Thankfully, Gaius ushered him with his hand, " I'll take care of the things you've brought. What are we missing?"

" Ah…the lower half of the list…Uncle…"

" Well? Go get it!"

The prince suddenly chuckled. " Get lost!" He remarked.

Merlin froze at the pun, blinking rapidly.

" Don't have a good memory, eh? Already forgot everything from your tour?"

" I…didn't have one."

" Didn't have one?" The prince scowled at the abashed healer. " Really now, Gaius. Though I suppose this is hardly surprising. You are always so focused on your herbs and books and nothing else. Well, come along _Mer_lin," He enunciated the name condescendingly, as he swung his legs to the floor and headed to the door faster than Merlin had time to think, " Let's get this over with fast. _Try _to remember at least _some _of the castle as we go, at least?"

Gaius's face had an expression of shock, but he ushered at Merlin frantically to follow. Merlin was hardly a fool; he knew the privilege of being escorted by the Crown Prince himself was not something to be taken lightly. In the halls, the prince did not look back to make sure the other had caught up. He instantly launched into a series of explanations and comments as they went. They passed by several servants who smiled at Merlin, as they had given him directions earlier. Merlin smiled nervously back, struggling to calm his rapidly beating heart, knowing that now was not the time to be over-excited.

The castle was large, and Merlin had hardly rested from traveling to unpacking to fetching things for Gaius. It was not long before he was exhausted. He was never considered strong, even in the small village of Ealdor.

" Not much for stamina, are you?" The prince observed, not even the least bit tired. Merlin wished the heir would not mock him so much. It was embarrassing enough without his remarks. " Go sit over there."

He leaned against the opposite wall as Merlin sat down. As soon as the boy sat, he was suddenly aware that he should not have. How could a peasant commoner sit down while a royal prince remained standing? Before he could even begin to think of a way to rectify his mistake, however, the prince had already started speaking again.

" So why are you visiting our mad healer? Gaius is a good man, but he's a piece of work."

Merlin blinked. " Well…he is my uncle."

" Fair enough, but he never mentioned having a nephew, or siblings. Not that we asked."

Lips quirking, Merlin replied, " I guess it's because he was too focused on his 'herbs and books and nothing else'."

" Ha!" The Crown Prince pulled himself from the wall. " Perhaps that was just as well. Where did you come from?"

_Is it normal for the prince to take such interest in a commoner?_ " I came from Ealdor."

" That's a good three night travel from here, no?"

Surprised that he would know, Merlin nodded. " Yes…Your Highness." Good heavens. The Crown Prince. As if noble were not enough.

" Small area, I think. Not under Camelot jurisdiction. A wonder that your family did not move here. I suppose your father loved the village too much?"

Merlin's breath caught in his throat as he considered how to answer. He did not have a father. What would the prince think of him now?

" Is this your first time visiting Camelot, _Mer_lin?" The prince had moved on, sparing Merlin the effort.

" Yes, Your Highness." It was easier to say the title now.

" First day in the city, and already rescuing beggars." Said the prince.

Merlin felt his face grow hot. He had hoped the prince would not mention that.

" Are you rested now? Or should we wait another hour for your ladylegs to revive?"

Rising to his feet, with his head bowed, Merlin replied, " I'm fine now."

" Very good." Said the prince. " Because you're not much of a talker, for all the talking you did at the markets. Come along. We still have a great deal of castle to go."

ooooo

" Take him away."

Part of Uther saw Igraine in the weeping mother. In all weeping mothers. Part of him saw Arthur in the son too, condemned to execution. The youth was young, with an honest face and voice, but Uther was not a King because he was overly merciful.

They say the King's heart died with his wife, and it was largely true. Sometimes at night he would dream of curling next to his wife's small frame. Upon learning they would never have a child, his wife had fallen to deep depression, believing she had failed Uther, that she had failed Camelot. He would wake in the middle of the night thinking he heard her quietly sobbing in the next room. He remembered his reluctance when the witch warned that the gift of life must be repaid with life.

Yvonne had not cared. They assumed it would be a random life, perhaps someone not even in Camelot. What was important that she gave King Uther an heir, gave Camelot an heir. One life was a small price to pay for a kingdom.

Except that one life had not been small at all.

" No." The sorcerer's mother sobbed. " No, please, he's my baby—he would never practice sorcery. I know my son! Please, Your Majesty!"

" The evidence is irrefutable." Said Uther. " Take the woman to Gaius and have him give her something to calm her. This court is adjourned."

He could sympathize with this wretched woman. He had been a victim of sorcery too. Nimweh had seemed almost a saint at the time, a miracle from God, blessing his Yvonne with a child and Camelot with a future King. He had foolishly believed her good faith, believed that she had told him everything. How he hated her now, for all her sinister schemes, but not more so than he hated himself, for being the fool, the royal, desperate idiot that had been blind enough to trust her. Like this mother, who no doubt hated herself for producing such a son. Leaving his throne, he stopped in front of the distraught mother and laid a hand on her head to convey what small comfort he could give.

" We all make mistakes, good woman." He said to her. " It is when our hopes and dreams are taken from us that we must take strength. May God grant you peace in harsh times to follow."

He turned, and left her to her grief.

ooooo

By evening, Merlin was thoroughly exhausted. He was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open. Arthur glanced at him, amused.

" I thought peasants in the rural areas are supposed to be hardier than this."

He had been trying to goad Merlin into the character he knew existed in the boy all day. The Merlin he met in the market had been brave and dignified, whereas Merlin in the castle had been more of a meek, submissive, boring thing. He had seen a defiant light flash in the other several times, but each time the youth kept his silence.

Once again, he saw an annoyed glint in those blue eyes, but Merlin once again remained silent.

" Did you come to Gaius for some kind of medicine to make you less of a girl?"

Merlin looked at him with bleary eyes.

" Come along." Giving up for now, Arthur led the way back to the healer's quarters. " It is high time for supper, and I won't be wasting that time leading you around. Hopefully Gaius gives you something to bolster your wit beyond that of feeding beggars more money to gamble."

He was a little disappointed. Maybe this Merlin character was too soft-tempered. Maybe that display in the market had been a one-time event.

" As I said before," Merlin's words almost startled him, " He can do what he feels he must with the money, but I do not regret giving it to him."

" Only because you don't believe me." Arthur replied knowingly. " Naive peasant folk. Both endearing and frustrating. A few days in the city will wean you of your ignorance, assuming you even stay that long."

" I'm already weaned." Merlin responded, his tones snappish. " I thought Camelot was supposed to be a wonderful place."

Arthur abruptly stopped and whirled around to face him. " And now you think differently?" He demanded.

Merlin blanched visibly. He clearly did not mean to remark out loud. He wavered a little, though his eyes remained on Arthur's—a gesture of defiance that would normally not be tolerated from commoners—before suddenly heaving a sigh.

" Pardon me, Your Highness. I just…had a rough day."

" Rough day! You were with me all day. What are you trying to say?"

" I'm not trying to say anything."

" You're saying I am bad company?"

" I just—I don't know." Merlin rubbed his head. " It's just—people here aren't _mean_, exactly, but they aren't _friendly—_it's stupid. I'm sorry. I've never been in any city before, and it's just very intimidating." This was followed by a growling sound so loud that it echoed in the hall. Arthur stared at Merlin's stomach.

The boy blushed. " I haven't eaten since breakfast." He said defensively.

" Well why didn't you say so?" Arthur exclaimed. " And here I thought you were a complete pansy, falling all over the place." That was not quite fair, since Merlin had only stumbled every once in a while. " Let's get you to Gaius before your stomach breaks the windows."

They went quickly through the halls, silent all the way, but when Arthur arrived at the healer's door, he pressed his hand on it instead of opening it and faced Merlin.

" Listen to me," He said, to the peasant commoner that intrigued him so much. He could not deny that he liked the other youth, naive though he might be. Merlin looked at him with wide eyes, exhaustion sagging all his features. The lad had a long day, to be sure, and Arthur could afford a little sympathy. " You're in Camelot, _Mer_lin. Not whatever village you came from. Camelot isn't the way it is because everyone's a spineless pansy. If you want to stay here for any length of time and not get crushed by others, you have to stand up for yourself. You have to take care of yourself, and you have to protect yourself. That means holding onto your change and not giving it to thieving beggars who play on sympathies the way that man did to you earlier today. That means not depending on others to take care of you for you. People here are busy. _I'm _busy. I had time today, but I won't every day, and everyone here has _way _too much to do for themselves, let alone worry about a clueless chap like you. We all have our responsibilities. You will too. If you want to thrive in Camelot, you have to stop acting like a girl." He thumped Merlin on the arm. " The reason why Camelot is the greatest city in the world, is because it forces you to do your best. Do that," He pushed himself off the door, " And you'll also see the best of Camelot."

He knew he did not misjudge Merlin when the youth nodded, the gesture filled with purpose.

" Thank you, Your Highness." The boy murmured, fully understanding the worth of Arthur's advice.

The prince hid his smile as he walked away, intent on his own supper. " Get inside!" He called out without looking back, " And fill that stomach of yours before it brings down the whole castle!"


End file.
